Rafael
by donnaann55
Summary: This is a Kurt 'what if' kind of story, something that could have happened in season 2, but didn't. Because I just can't imagine that no one ever wanted Kurt, small town or not! Pre-Blaine. One shot. No actual slash, but I'm rating it M anyway for language because I'm paranoid.


**Raphael**

"I'm never going to be able to do it. I can't dance. When is Schuester going to realize that it's a hopeless…?"

Finn rattled on, but Kurt didn't hear him, all his attention focused on the lean body leaning against a motorcycle in the school parking lot. He couldn't drag his eyes away. Black biker boots, blue jeans faded in all the right places, black leather jacket teamed with a grey vest, white shirt and tie. Kurt approved; nice, very nice. He wouldn't have put it together quite the same way but he couldn't argue with perfection. His eyes moved up, to find razor sharp cheek bones, tousled dark hair, and eyes drowning in long dark lashes, staring straight at him. Shit! Not smart to check out guys on bikes, Hummel! Not in the school parking lot, not in Lima.

He ducked his head, and pressed the car key in his hand to unlock the Navigator. Finn slid in to the passenger seat, still whining. Kurt threw his bag in the back, and couldn't stop himself from looking. One look wouldn't hurt, right?

Yep, still there. Still amazingly hot, and still looking right at him. Kurt felt the colour crawl up his neck, and flood his face. He looked away, and slid into the driver's seat, closing the door with a snap. He turned the ignition, and got the hell out of Dodge.

"Kurt, what the hell? Where's the fire?" Finn stared at Kurt, still in the process of fastening his seat belt.

"Sorry." Kurt wasn't going to. He was definitely, not going to. He checked the rear view mirror, and gasped. The stranger, by the bike, raised his hand and waved. "Fuck!"

"Dude, what's your problem?" Finn looked back over his shoulder. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just forgot to tell Mercedes something. I'll catch her later."

Finn narrowed his eyes, as he stared at Kurt. He wasn't nearly as dumb as he pretended to be. Something was up. "Uh-huh. Yeah, that's why you just broke the sound barrier getting out of the parking lot, and why you're swearing. You never swear."

Kurt glanced over at his step-brother. "Let's just pretend that's why, Okay?"

Finn didn't like it. He had always been an only child, until now. He was new to it, but he took the brother thing seriously. He wanted to know what Kurt was upset about. That's what brothers did, right?

"Is Karofsky bothering you again?"

"No, no it's nothing like that. It's not a big deal." Kurt reached over and punched Finn lightly in the shoulder. "Stop worrying."

"You'll tell me later, right?"

Kurt grinned. "Maybe." He stopped at a red light. "If it turns out to be something, I'll tell you."

Finn nodded and settled back in his seat. "Okay."

Kurt took a left at the intersection. "You should ask Mike to help you."

Finn groaned, and started on another vent about his lack of co-ordination, and Kurt knew he was safe from unwanted concern for a while.

* * *

Dinner over, Kurt was trying to study for a biology test. He was not particularly successful, because the images of internal organs in his text kept morphing into the tall, dark and tousle-haired boy from this afternoon. Kurt saw him again leaning against his bike, staring at him. He saw him in his rearview mirror, waving. What was that, some kind of sarcastic take on, 'don't even think about it, fag'? But disgusted straight boys didn't usually wave at him. No, knocking his books to the floor, or tossing him into lockers was more their style. Unless, nah … he couldn't have actually been interested, right? Naaa! No way! Score 1 for imagination! But it was theoretically possible, right? He couldn't be the only gay guy in Lima, right?

Kurt played with his yellow highlighter, tapping the page in front of him. The boy with the eyes had been staring at him. Of course, he got stares all the time. Stares followed by laughter, and derision, as the morons in his school laughed at his clothes or his voice or sexuality. But this guy hadn't been looking at his outfit, he had been looking at him, directly at him, and he hadn't been laughing.

His phone vibrated on the desk. He scanned the screen; text message from an unknown number. He hit delete, and went back to not studying. His phone vibrated again, same number. What? Weird… he opened the message.

**Kurt, I think your body would feel good under mine**

Kurt stared at his phone, in shock. He looked around his room, expecting Puck or Finn to burst down the stairs shouting with laughter. But there was nothing, no one, just him. He read the words again, and slowly typed a reply.

**Puck?**

**Don't know who that is.**

**Who is this?**

Kurt waited. No answer. This had to be some asshole jock on the football team, or the hockey team, although, he couldn't figure out how this person got his cell number. His phone jumped in his hand, new text. OMG! Not words this time; a picture. Holy fuck! It was the bike guy from the parking lot.

**How did you get this #?**

**Santana's my cousin.**

Kurt almost dropped the phone in his haste to find Santana in his contact list.

**Did you give my # to your cousin?**

Santana's reply was almost instantaneous. **Yeah, I thought you could use a life.**

Kurt snorted, typical Satan! He didn't bother responding, as his fingers flew over the keys on his phone, bringing him back to the text that was OMFG! This was so not a lame ass joke. He scrolled up and read the message again.

**Kurt, your body would feel good under mine**

He could feel his heart. He couldn't think around the blood thumping in his ears. He stared at the phone. Holy Shit! He jumped, a small shriek slipping past his lips, as the phone vibrated again.

**Kurt?**

Mr. Leather Jacket was waiting for an answer. Fuck! What should he say? His hormones screamed at him. _Are you fucking kidding me? _Every sexual impulse he had ever had, twisted together and formed a megaphone in his head. _Answer him_, NOW!

He took a breath. His fingers bypassed his brain, and started pressing keys on his Blackberry.

**I'd rather feel your body under mine**

Kurt hit send before he could change his mind. He bit his lip, and paced his room, waiting for the response.

**K**

Kurt's eyes went wide, and then his lips tipped into a smile. Well, he wasn't going to say no, to that!

**When?**

**I'm outside your house.**

Kurt raced up the stairs and bolted into the living room. He sidled up against the window and peeked through the plantation shutters. OMG! There he was, legs crossed at the ankle, leaning against his bike, looking down at his phone. Kurt sagged back against the wall. Thank you, Santana!

Fingers flying, he typed his reply.

**Give me 5**

He checked his hair, brushed his teeth, and texted Santana on his way to the front door.

**I owe U**

He opened the front door and called out to Carole in the kitchen. "Carole, I'm going out. Tell Dad I won't be late." He didn't wait for Carole's reply. He closed the door behind him, and walked down the walkway to the dark haired boy waiting for him.

The boy stepped away from his bike, and smiled. "Rafael Lopez. I'm glad you…"

Kurt grimaced as his phone vibrated. He dug it out of his pocket. "Hold that thought." He smiled at Rafael, and read Santana's text.

**Yes, you do, Lady Face**

He rolled his eyes as he put his phone away. "Santana."

Rafael grinned. "You wouldn't believe what I had to do to get her to give me your number."

Kurt laughed. "Yes, I would!" He moved until he was standing beside Rafael, and put his hand on the bike. "You taking me for a ride?"

Rafael leaned against the bike, and tucked one finger into the loop of Kurt's jeans. He pulled Kurt close. "Well, I was kinda hoping you'd ride me."

Kurt's eyes went wide with surprise, and then dark with intent. He slid one leg between Rafael's and grabbed a handful of the other boy's T-shirt. "I can do that."


End file.
